


Four A.M.

by lulebell



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Freeform, No Spoilers, season four
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 09:18:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7634719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lulebell/pseuds/lulebell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For once, Sherlock is considerate of Joan's sleeping needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four A.M.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed - feel free to point out any mistakes. I haven't written anything in over a year, so this may be a tad rusty.

Four a.m. finds them once again with papers from their most recent case strewn across the hardwood of their shared home. Despite Joan’s best efforts not to, she succumbs to sleep before he does, slumping beside Sherlock, her papers falling on to her knees, and then the floor. 

His first instinct is to grab the papers from off of the floor, but he stops when he feels her exhale and shift her position slightly. Her head finds the soft spot on his chest by his shoulder and beneath his collar bone when he finally forgets about their case. 

She twitches suddenly and her head falls forward. Her raven strands move across her face and tickles his hand. He does his best to not brush them away. With his opposite hand, he moves to tuck her hair behind her ear. He allows himself the fleeting touch of skin on skin, even if it’s just the very edge of her body. 

He lets his hand fall on top of hers and links his fingers around her thin wrist, anchoring her to the sofa. He stretches out his opposite arm and she falls further into his body. He pulls her closer and cradles her with expertise, as if he’s done this a hundred times before; he ignores his pounding heart. 

In a swift motion, she’s in his arms and he’s watching her heels fall to the floor from his standing position. He tightens his grip around her as if the motion will protect her slumber from the sound of crashing shoes against hardwood. 

She’s lighter than he expected, even though he knows how much she weighs down to the ounce (a secret he keeps to himself) and making the climb to her bedroom will be easy. He takes his time, though, savouring the moment; she's in his arms and her bedroom door looms ever closer. 

He lays her down on her bed, atop the blankets, and between far too many pillows to be practical, but arguably more comfortable than his Spartan keep. His fingers hover over the buttons on her blouse. It’s terribly uncomfortable to sleep with one’s clothes on, but he runs the risk of waking her if he attempts to undress her. He snaps his hand back. He moves her hair out of her face once more and she rolls over and way from him, snuggling down into the bed. 

_She’ll be cold_ , he thinks. He takes off his jacket and lays it over her body. Somehow it only covers her torso and is too big for her at the same time. He watches her for a moment before rocking on his heels, turning, and leaving. 

Later, when the sun is high, the smell of breakfast long gone, she wakes, finally, to his scent wrapped around her. She feels the rough fabric of his jacket against her cheek. She opens her eyes slowly and smiles.


End file.
